Meet Me At The Clock
by R-COTA
Summary: One Shot. Jack's time in heaven.


There was a ship that never moved, but always sailed. The passengers never slept, never aged. And one of them, a young man named Jack, never moved from the top of a staircase gazing at a clock that never moved from 2:20.

It was a small section of an infinite paradise; inhabited by the Titanic and the lost souls aboard. An odd mix of rich and poor, with men heavily outweighing the number of women. Americans, Irish, Italians, Arabic, Norwegians and more…people of many cultures lingered about the restored ship. The scene was perfect in every way, an impossibly large ship in a soft glow of light above a smooth and dreamy waterscape, and people who could no longer suffer harm.

Perhaps it was many years ago, it was difficult to tell, that the ship had sank tragically. There was no sunset here, and no evidence of seasons; no way to count the passing seconds except in one's own head. The man, Jack, had given up marking the time. It was only recently, maybe a few years ago he guessed, that he'd begun waiting at the clock. He'd had a lifetime on this ship, with his pals Fabrizio and Tommy. Of course, by now he was friends with virtually everybody on the ship, but she'd be coming soon and he wanted to be there when she did. So he waited by the clock.

She'd promised him. He wondered how old she was by now. 80? Maybe 90?

Jack reflected on his time on the ship. Aptly nicknamed the ship of dreams, the time after his death had been suitably dreamlike. When he walked, it was more like floating or skating. The endless horizon looked almost fluffy, and he'd never felt pain or hunger since he'd materialised on the bow of the Titanic looking out on the view he'd once shared with her. Negative emotions were rare aboard the Titanic now, although it hadn't always been so. At first the passengers grieved their loss, grieved for the lives they'd never live. But as time passed, so did their grief. People began to talk and make connections; concept of class and race disappeared. Languages were miraculously mutually understandable. The musicians aboard began to play, and people laughed and danced. Heaven, they eventually understood.

Time passed, and no one had ever joined them aboard the ship. Not a single husband had yet been greeted by a wife who'd been saved by a lifeboat. But Jack knew that she would come, he insisted on it. Some had doubted him, called him 'pazzo', but the time had come, he believed. He'd been dead a long while, and she, the rose, might soon wilt. No, not wilt. His Rose would never wilt. She would depart from life as strong and beautiful as she'd always been, never beaten. Rose would always be the victor.

It was on one particular stretch of continuous day that he felt it, a gentle shift in the universe. A tether he'd barely noticed before, attaching him to the Earth, had snapped. A part of him had finally been relinquished, and was returning to him. Rose.

He raced around the ship, calling to everyone he ran by. "She's coming!" he yelled with glee, over and over again. The passengers began to follow him, curiosity piqued. They waited, milling by the Grand Staircase, as Jack took his place at the top of the stairs, where he'd stood for so long. One man even resumed his post next to the door, prepared to open it if need be. Jack looked at the useless clock, hoping he didn't have to wait too much longer.

He closed his eyes, and sought out that tether inside of him. Like a rubber band that had snapped, he could feel it hurtling back towards him with a sensation of fire and ice, excitement and calmness. Rose. She was here.

He turned around, and there she was. As radiant as the day he'd left her, with her curls of fire. He looked at her as if barely a day had passed, as if she were just a tiny bit late meeting him for a date. A simple touch of hands and slight hesitance gave way to kissing and embrace, as their crowd of onlookers clapped at the reunited couple and that tether inside of Jack melted away. He wanted to speak, to ask her, did she make it count? Had she lived as she'd promised? But that could wait.

They had forever to spend together now.


End file.
